


Turn the Lights Out

by Makioka



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 17:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makioka/pseuds/Makioka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When someone wants Ariadne's skills (without the bother of payment,) there is only one person who can do anything to ensure she comes out alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn the Lights Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atthestars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atthestars/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> The South American country mentioned is completely made up, and bears no resemblance to any real country.

It was Arthur, careful layer of bread crumbs, the industrious procurer of jobs and equipment for the entire time that Cobb had known him who contacted him. He often left weeks before phone calls, and even then sometimes they were the briefest check ins, letting Cobb know that he’d arrived in Russia, that he was working in Belize on a secret extraction, or that he’d arrived home in America and was resting up in Detroit, a choice that had left Cobb mildly worried for Arthur’s wardrobe if not for Arthur himself. But there was always the call, Cobb was the closest thing Arthur had to a safety-net, and God knew he owed him that much. 

And through Arthur he kept up to date on the movements of the rest, the swathe Eames cut through the Near East, before he disappeared under on a rumoured job for MI5, the success Yusuf was having with his latest concoction which was hitting the black market like a bolt of out of the blue, even in a careful way monitoring Saito and the inevitable collapse of Fischer’s company. A frugal management of his own portfolio had left him secure at a time when the satellite companies that Fischer was carelessly selling off one by one were causing the stock market to plummet, a move that Arthur found tasteless and Cobb found practical.

When he had sounded Arthur out about Ariadne though, he was left with a blank wall and a mild repeated statement that she was doing very well, that she’d dropped out of university and was working on her skills in a more hands-on environment. After a short while he’d dropped the enquiries. He had his own children to focus on right now, let alone worrying about anyone else.

When the call came, he was asleep on the sofa with James on his knee, and Phillipa under his arm, Spongebob Squarepants nattering away quietly on the TV. Phillipa pretended to be too old for it now, but always made it in when James started watching. Their closeness reminded him that he could have lost this forever, and he currently felt like he couldn’t have shifted from that position if the world was offered on a plate. Arthur’s number was a different matter though, and he answered it as quietly as he could, juggling James in his arm as he balanced the phone between his neck and his shoulder for a moment. The line was poor on Arthur’s end, static interrupting it continually and he missed about half of his first sentence, obliging him to ask for a repeat.

A second passed and Arthur’s voice came through loud and clear. “Dom can you hear me?” 

“I can now. Where are you?” he replied, one arm now free and in the process of gently shifting James to the sofa.

“About five hours from you actually. I’d rather talk about this one face to face if you’re not busy.” Arthur sounded as calm as usual, but that was no clue to the gravity of the situation, Cobb had known Arthur to stay cool under the threat of a gun to the head, or a knife to the throat in the past, and he doubted that had changed. 

“Sure,” was his distracted answer. “I’ll see you soon.” He put down the phone without waiting for the response, and stared into the darkened room absently. If Arthur was coming here with what was for him a tiny amount of notice then this was big. It might even be big enough to convince him to go back into the field though he doubted that very much. There weren’t any blandishments Arthur could realistically proffer to make it worth his while to get involved with the black market dream business again. Whatever Saito had done, there were limits to his wizardry and Dom Cobb returning to the dream-scene in his native America would be enough of a red flag to a good few law enforcement agencies. These and a dozen other arguments were ready to be mustered against Arthur as soon as he had arrived.

He wasn’t given a chance to use any of them however. Arthur seemed as fully aware of the necessity of keeping above board as he could wish, and it was after he’d eaten dinner, hugged James and Phillipa and given them their gift (chocolate, they’d had enough airport teddies for a lifetime,) that he pulled a chair up close and said without further preamble. “It’s Ariadne.”

Cobb was surprised and he let it show. “What’s the matter?” There was indeed some truth in his surprise. Of everyone on the team he’d once commanded, she’d seemed the least likely to ever need bailing out, and he couldn’t help but regard Arthur with a little bit of healthy scepticism. 

Arthur looked troubled though. “I kept in touch with her,” he said briefly. “She was drifting a little, determined to master everything that she possibly could. The last one was a bit of a rush job, the skills got dumped on her and she took them and ran with it with excellent results. But she wanted a bit of finesse, and well building isn’t my strongest suit.” He smiled self deprecatingly. “I’m a point-man by trade and by nature. I do a bit of everything. She needed someone better, someone who knew their stuff. Someone like you.”

“You should have come to me,” Cobb said going cold. Dream-sharing was a risky business and you needed guarantees before you shared minds with anyone. And it wasn’t like Ariadne didn’t have a history of digging out secrets, if not a subtle way of doing it. 

Arthur shrugged a shoulder. “You were gone Cobb and I wasn’t going to be the one to drag you into this again. You’ve hung up the gloves, turned the lights out as you left. I had to find her someone trustworthy, someone who knows their stuff and that’s harder than you’d think. Most people heard about the inception job, and when they met her it was with the clear intention of persuading her, or forcing her to repeat the experiment. They wanted her knowledge, not to share theirs. Naturally she refused. And now, she’s gone. Disappeared. I’ve been using every contact I have without any luck to all intents and purposes she’d disappeared off the face off the earth.”

Cobb noticed the odd phrasing. “You’ve found her?” 

“I got a tip off from Eames of all people, grapevine let him know that there was a group in a small country in South America who’d been looking for an architect. One who had tried for Inception. I was puzzled at first, why just Ariadne? Why not the man who planned it?”

“They’re not planning Inception,” Cobb said slowly. “They just wanted the best, and with these people the best is always the one they’ve heard of. “

Arthur nodded. “I assumed that as well. Ariadne has a well deserved reputation, she designed and built the maze that fooled dozens of well trained projections and gave us time to do our jobs. It’s not surprising they’d want her. So I did the legwork, contacted Yusuf to see if there’d been any unusual requests, after the Elixir took off he’s been flooded with special orders. Nothing stood out to him immediately, but after looking through the most recent records he did find one. A customer from the same South American country, an order for a dream-draught of unusual strength and potency, specifically designed for the metabolism of an old man. It came back to him that they’d been unusually thorough in supplying him with medical records, and insistent that the person from who they were extracting must not run any risk of death. Which of course is a promise no chemist can make.”

Cobb nodded, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the course of events. Things were falling into place the more Arthur told him, except for the insistence of no risk of death. Without that it was simple, they clearly planned to infiltrate the mind of the corrupt leader extract whatever information they could, and get out fast. 

After a pause and a sip of water Arthur continued. “Once I had that information, things were clearer. Ariadne generally let me know when she got a new offer of work, and she only accepted once. I couldn’t remember any rebel group approaching her directly, and I think it’s unlikely that they did. I do believe though that they made her an offer through a third party, as a way to get in contact and gauge her.”

Without any ado Cobb cut in. “Is it possible,” he said thinly, “that she went with them voluntarily? That they were persuasive enough to convince her to aid them?”

A frown wrinkled Arthur’s brow. “It’s possible,” he allowed, “but it doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense. Why wouldn’t she let someone know? We have to find her as soon as possible, because I have a nasty feeling that however solicitious they are of their extractee, they’re not going to be nearly so much so of their Architect when the job is done.”

The silence lengthened, and Arthur laced his fingers together. “I’m not asking you to come back Cobb,” he said briefly. “I know that’s impossible I do. But I need your help on this one.”

“It’s not like I’m going to say no,” Cobb said dryly. “Unless Saito pulls some strings I can’t make it to South America though. Excuse me for a moment.” He picked up his cell, and dialled the only way he had of getting in direct contact with Saito, and said briefly. “I’ll take your offer.”

Some hours later he reflected that it was amazing what vast quantities of money could do. Not just private planes, but information almost on tap. It had taken several of Saito’s private analysts only hours to narrow down exactly where they should be heading, and to trace back Yusuf’s information and cross reference it with the notes Ariadne had made in her appointment book, and then to superimpose it on the political situation of the country they were about to visit, and come up with the three most likely scenarios. None of which involved Ariadne going willingly. 

A woman who had introduced herself only as Theresa had volunteered to go with them on the plane, first the super jet that took them as far as it would go, then the rickety small plane that would take them to the country itself as unobtrusively as was possible. She sat opposite them now, a vision of polished perfection, explaining the most likely way that the situation would go down. Of the top five most likely scenarios, four of them involved the president’s closest advisors planning this rather than any outside group. One of them had the president co-operating. This was no outside coup, no rebels storming the citadel, just the clutch of men at the top of the tree in the country gathering more power to themselves. Not a chance that Ariadne would’ve co-operated except under extreme duress.

With sure strokes, Theresa painted the picture as it stood for them. The President of the country lived in an affectedly simplistic style, a large mansion rather than a palace of any sort, but still heavily guarded against his many enemies. A more corrupt autocrat hardly existed, and the men who formed his advisory body were of a like mind to him. He kept them edgy by periodic purges, and the country was locked down tightly in terms of public image. He generally made public appearances daily and held a public audience once a month as a gesture towards democracy, where selected people could approach and make complaints, heavily controlled of course. He’d been seen as recently as the day before which meant that quite possibly the extraction hadn’t taken place yet. Today though, he hadn’t been seen although he was scheduled to attend a function in the morning. 

The schematics of the house included a network of tunnels beneath it, created at least twenty years ago, after strengthening the house’s foundations. It seemed reasonable to assume that that was where the extraction would take place- the limited entrances meant they’d be unlikely to be disturbed during the procedure. The only way to infiltrate it was to get into the tunnels through a different method. Here again, Saito’s contacts, money and influence came in handy. The right palms greased, the right eyes averted and within a few hours they were in the tunnels, checking out the small rooms that branched off as swiftly as possible. 

It was deserted, clearly emptied out to allow the extraction to proceed with no interruption, and no questions. Even the President’s personal guards had been instructed to remain above ground, and the two rooms that were occupied were both sound proofed. The first one held five men with a military bearing playing cards and drinking.

The second small room was empty bar three beds, and a PASIV in the middle connecting the three bodies. Ariadne lay at one end, a troubled expression marring her face, and her hands bound together with a plastic tie cord. The two men next to her couldn’t have been more different, a shrivelled old man, with a deeply lined face who matched the extant photos of the President, and a young vital man who was instantly recognised by Arthur and Cobb, he’d acted as lead extractor in several high profile heists though neither of them had worked with him. His hands weren’t tied. 

Shaking them awake wasn’t going to work, and from what Yusuf had said this wasn’t his normal formula. It was time controlled, nothing would make them wake ahead of time. Nothing, and though he had no doubt that Ariadne had built a beautiful environment for the extraction, at the time frame they were looking at, she was in severe danger from the projections. The more dangerous the person, the more dangerous the projections, and the projections of a man who had had no qualms about killing his way to his present position, and keeping it with similar acts of violence, were going to be lethal. And with no kick, and no way to escape, dying at the hands of a projection was going to result in a visit to a limbo that would leave her lost. It wasn’t like the people she was with would care, and unlike Cobb her personal limbo was a formless mass. She’d spent no time there.

There was only one thing to do, and that was to go in after them. The timer beside the extractor’s head was counting down from four minutes, he had to get in there and help now or she could be lost. His own formula was in his pocket, he’d known it would come to this deep down. The standard one

He looked at Arthur who nodded, still holding his gun cautiously in front of him. “I’ll hold down the fort here, anything happens I’ll give you a kick.” His eyes were even darker with worry. “Be careful down there Cobb.” The unspoken words lingered, Mal might be gone, but she also might not. And this was the first dream since inception. 

A moment later he was falling into darkness, and when he woke in the dream. Thick leafy green jungle oppressed him, the heavy scent of rot hanging in the air. Something rustled in the undergrowth, possibly a body pushing through. As he stumbled forwards looking for a clearing, his foot nudged something hard. A rifle lay there which he picked up cautiously, hefting the weight, feeling the smooth metal in his hand. Again there was a rustling as though something large was slinking around the edges of his sight. He wondered if he dared risk calling her name, and had almost decided against it when he fell over the cover to a manhole. Below there was cold deep darkness, and he took a breath to nerve himself before he slipped through. He held on to the edge for a second then let himself fall into the blackness. 

He had to admire her ingenuity, the dark is universal, it means something to everyone, and following the tunnel he emerged once more into the jungle. This time the projections were closer, long and low and lean, not human at all. He caught a glimpse of a huge snake coiling itself along the ground, and the stealthy pad of a large cat. Somewhere in the distance, a gun clicked, loading. Every nerve in his body screamed danger.

A hand caught at his arm, and he whipped round, instinctively drawing the rifle up. It was Ariadne, hair dishevelled, twigs caught in it, face smeared generously with dirt. He gulped in air in relief, which faded at her distraught expression. “They’re close,” she panted. “Erik is the clumsiest extractor possible, he tipped them off almost immediately. Come with me.” She pulled him, and he stumbled along following her lead. The jungle coiled in on itself, and he realised gradually that she’d built it as an interlocking spiral with the dark corridors, dark tendrils reaching different bits, hundreds of tiny passages built around the centre where he presumed the extraction itself was taking place. Taking refuge in one of them, they snatched a few minutes to talk.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly, she seemed unharmed but her eyes were distant and troubled, and she didn’t reply for a minute.

“I think so,” she said finally. “...his is not a good mind to be in. I didn’t care in the end what damage could result, there’s something rotten in here and it kept sinking through into my environment. Not just the projections, but other things. Like a stinking sludge that we had to wade through. And sometimes you see glimpses, little things that he’s seen...” she trailed off for a moment, and shivered. “It’s not like anything I’ve touched before.” 

Cobb slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders, she was cold to the touch. As always time was impossible to tell down here, but he thought that the time was almost up. Footsteps rang out above them, time to move again and they ran onwards, Cobb at the ready with the rifle, Ariadne fashioning herself her own. This time the steps didn’t die away, they continued above quickening, and Ariadne took a sharp left into a different tunnel. “We can move faster in these,” Cobb said thoughtfully. Ariadne nodded, too out of breath to reply. 

She stopped, gasping for air. “Not down here,” she murmured. “This one is a dead end,” they turned to find a different one and heard heavy deliberate footsteps on their level now, not echoing in the darkness above. The projection that was tracking them had found their level and fallen through. Heavy boot clad feet beat a menacing rhythm, swiftly echoed by his fellows. And out of the darkness came a long low purr.

A sudden intuition seized him, his body long attuned to dream-time was warning him, that at any second Arthur was going to kick him out. It was no use appealing to the ceiling, he only had time to drop the rifle, taking with him one horrified glimpse of Ariadne’s face as she realised she was alone again.

He woke gasping, to Arthur’s worried face, and lunged upright to see the timer. Two seconds left, Arthur had left it to the last possible moment, and from the sight of two sprawled bodies on the floor lazily oozing blood had almost not managed it. Two seconds later Ariadne was awake, and the old man and Erik were struggling out of the dream as well. Within minutes the room was going to be full of the people who had ordered this, they had to get out. They left the old man struggling woozily against the straps that had held him down, and a hard punch solved the problem of Erik leaving him peacefully quiet on the bed. Arthur slipped one arm around Ariadne’s shoulders to help her, she was still white and shocked looking, and between them they made their way through tunnels that thought they were lit, seemed oddly familiar to Cobb at least.

Theresa was waiting for them as professional as ever even in the limpid heat, ushering them aboard, helping Ariadne to a seat, and urging the pilot to leave as soon as possible. There was no conversation possible on such a small plane, it wasn’t until they were aboard Saito’s own jet, that Cobb could ask for the details. Ariadne looked small and tired in the large seat as she told him briefly that she’d been approached by a standard business who wanted a good architect for a routine job. She’d turned it down “I was only looking for challenges at that point,” she said smiling wryly. “They returned the next day, offering all expenses paid, and a hugely substantial fee. When I suggested several other names of good architects, they kept talking about my finesse and my reputation. I should’ve let Arthur know that they were back and so insistent, but there have been lots like that recently.”

Cobb passed her a bottle of water, and waited as she took a sip and closed her eyes. “You are well known,” he said gently. “That was some first job you did.”

“They came back for a third time, and this time they didn’t talk. Just told me that I would help or would regret the consequences. On the plane down, they told me the plan, tried to dress it up a bit, saying that I’d be doing a good thing, helping a lot of people. I don’t know why they’d want someone stupid enough to believe that doing a job for them. I pretended to though, which let me keep my hands free. Pretended to be worried about the money more than anything, though I knew they’d probably get rid of me as soon as I was done. Spun out the time it’d take to create what they wanted, insisted that I needed time to tailor an environment. Hoped someone would come.”

She fell silent and looked out the window, and Cobb shifted seats to be closer. “You did a good job,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t have created a better one, I don’t think anyone could have. It’s a risk you have to take in this business.” He felt the words were useless, but he had to say something.

“I suppose,” was the response. “It’s not like I can stop now.” It was matter of fact, the easy acceptance of a new life. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do, and I feel like I’ve got some serious experience under my belt now.” There was silence for a moment, then in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, she looked at him. “How did you convince Saito to help you? He doesn’t seem like the sort to give something for nothing.”

Arthur who’d been pretending to give them some privacy looked up, Cobb’s elusive references to a mysterious deal had piqued his interest as well. Cobb hesitated then reluctantly told them. “When we concluded the original deal, he offered me a favour for a favour. If I needed his help he would give it, but I’d have to do a separate job for him.” 

“You were out though,” she said with no inflection. “Why would you come back?”

Arthur spoke for the first time, warm amusement in his voice. “You’re a sentimentalist sometimes Cobb. No way would he have left you there Ariadne, not for the sake of one last job. There was nothing Cobb could say to refute that and he didn’t even try.


End file.
